Dorothea Asserts Herself
by JanetMM
Summary: It's 1948. Dorothea turns to Dick for help.


January 1948 was very cold and there were fuel shortages. Dick Callum, wearing a coat and gloves in his attic bedsitting room, was surprised to hear his doorbell ring quite late in the evening. Although he lived on the third floor, his was the only doorbell in the whole house. He'd spent a happy morning fitting it. "Dot!" he said on opening the front door to see his sister, now Dorothea Owen, clasping a hold-all and a baby. Her toddler was clinging to her skirt. "Come on in, Maggie" he said taking the child's hand and Dorothea's case and leading the way upstairs. A kettle was quickly put on the gas-ring.

Dorothea sat down with relief at having accomplished the journey from Norwich to London with the children and surprised herself and Dick by bursting into tears. She began to peel off Maggie's clothes. She was dressed in two of nearly everything as Roger had been one night on the lake what seemed like so long ago. "What's up?" said Dick. Dorothea, rocking and soothing the baby, started to explain. "These days it seems that everything I say annoys George and he's been hitting me." She blew her nose and wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry to bother you with my problems. I know I should stick by my husband."

"Dot, I'm your brother. Nobody should be hitting you, husband or not."

"Thank you." she said when Dick gave her a cup of tea.

"Here, Maggie," said Dick, giving the toddler a drink of the last of his milk with a dash of tea in his tooth mug.

Dot went on. "Yes, I'm sorry to have to ask you to help me. But yesterday when he hit me, I fell over. I couldn't get up and Maggie wandered up on deck and he did nothing. – We're living on a houseboat because it's cheap out of season. It's not ideal with little ones. - I realised it was dangerous for all of us. This morning, after he'd gone out, I'm not sure that he actually has any work, I did something I never thought I'd do. I packed this bag, grabbed the children and took that lovely barometer that Nancy and Peggy sent as a wedding present and pawned it! We got the coach and here were are, cold, hungry, homeless and penniless. I just didn't know what to do."

"What manner of man could this George be?" Dick wondered. Nobody was ever cross with Dorothea.

"As you know," she explained, "I had that on-off thing with Tom, Tom Dudgeon, when I met him while I was in the WRNS and he was in the navy during the war. It was off when I heard that he'd gone down in the Atlantic and it seemed almost too much to bear. So, I suppose I was a bit vulnerable when I met George. Anyhow, as you must have worked out, it wasn't long before Maggie was on the way. I suppose I was pleased that George agreed to marry me. I don't know how mother would have coped with the bridge club and afternoon teas with other college wives if I'd landed her with a fatherless grandchild.

"I suppose George found it difficult when the baby came and he had to compete for my attention. He was always very erratic about providing housekeeping money or paying the rent. He would come up with some excuse like, the bank had messed up crediting his salary cheque, which he'd forget that he'd said by the next day, and make me out to be a confused, silly woman when I brought up the subject of grocery bills. It got worse when little Ruthie arrived. You won't believe it, but, I rarely had any money and …"

"Listen," said Dick. "You've done the right thing. In the morning I'll go round to Titty's art college and tell her to come round here so you can talk to her and I'll ring Susan when I get to my lab. What with her working as a lady almoner at the hospital since she was demobbed, she'll know where to look for help with stuff for the children and so on. Everything will get sorted out.

I wouldn't be surprised if you couldn't make a good living with your writing. I'll tell you what, let's get the name of Captain Flint's agent. If he could get such a good deal for 'Mixed Moss' which after all wasn't very good, think what he could get for one of your romances."

Suddenly there was loud knocking on the door of the bedsit and a woman's voice, lowered by years of smoking, called out, "Mr Callum, you've got a woman in there. I won't have it. This is a respectable house."

Dick looked a little sideways at the reference to 'a respectable house' and whispered, "It's the landlady. I'm sure she's the GA reincarnated." He opened the door.

"You must ask her to leave."

Dick broke in. This is my sister, Dorothea. She's been having some problems." The reincarnation of the Great Aunt suddenly caught sight of the two little girls, Dorothea's tear-stained, blotchy face and, more perceptive than Dick, the livid bruises on her legs. Her expression changed. She smiled. "Trouble with hubby, dear?" she said. "I know what it's like."

"My sister's staying the night here," said Dick decisively.

"Well, just the one night." said the landlady. "Actually, I might have a room coming vacant here by the end of the week, if you're looking for somewhere."

"That would be great," said Dorothea.

The landlady remembered that she was a business woman. "If you can pay the rent – of course I expect all my tenants to provide a suitable, employed, male guarantor, Mrs … er?"

"Owen" said Dorothea. "Thank you. I'd appreciate the tenancy."

Dick cut in. "Roger's got that good engineering job with whatever the railways call themselves now they're nationalised. He'll be a guarantor." He turned to the landlady, "Don't worry, we got friends who'll sort out payments until Dot gets on her feet."

After the landlady left they settled down to make-do for the night. They took out a drawer from Dick's chest of drawers and lined it with pages of 'The Manchester Guardian'. Dick agreed with his father that it was worth reading it for the quality of its English, let alone its foreign reporting. Dick put Ruthie in the drawer wrapped up in an array of his pullovers, mostly lovingly hand-knitted by his mother. Dorothea and little Maggie squeezed into Dick's narrow bed and Dick slept in the armchair, swathed in his and Dot's overcoats. "This reminds me of that first night in the Dog's Home." said Dick.

"Those were the days." said Dot. "I was worried about housekeeping for the first time and about living up to the Amazons' expectations. We thought nothing of having an egg each for breakfast every day, but I didn't know what war and adult life could be like. There's one more thing, Dick. George hasn't always been George Owen. He changed his name when he left borstal. It was Owdon, before."


End file.
